According To Tradition, King Olaf I Of Norway Was Enslaved As A Child

Tryggvi Olafsson was a grandson of the first King of all Norway, Harald Finehair (ruled approximately 860-940). Tryggvi’s cousins, the sons of Eirik Bloodaxe (r. 940-945), conquered Norway around 961, after they dealt a mortal wound to King Hákon the Good (r. 946-961). Yet, even though the sons of Eirik were proven warriors and had royal blood in their veins, Tryggvi and other nobles worked together to resist the brothers. Jarl Hákon Sigurdsson of the Trondheim region led an open rebellion against the sons of Eirik after his father was assassinated in 963 and Tryggvi was one of the Norwegian chieftains that lent the rebels his support. Unfortunately, supporting Jarl Hákon put a target on Tryggvi’s back and he was ultimately assassinated by the sons of Eirik around 968. According to tradition, Tryggvi’s wife, Astrid, was pregnant at the time of her husband’s death. When the grim news arrived, she immediately fled from Norway. Her son, Olaf Tryggvason, was reportedly born while she was on the run.

As told in the sagas, Astrid and her newborn child escaped to Sweden, where they stayed until young Olaf was three years old. Yet, when agents of the sons of Eirik came looking for them, Astrid decided to relocate to Novgorod or Kiev, where Vladimir the Great (prince of Novgorod r. 970-972 and Grand Prince of Kiev 980-1015) was ascending to power. With this in mind, Astrid and her young son boarded a merchant ship and set sail for the lands of the Kievan Rus. Nevertheless, according to legend, the merchant ship never reached its destination.

Astrid and Olaf were reportedly thrown into chaos even before they reached mainland Europe. As the story goes, Vikings or raiders attacked the merchant ship somewhere in the Baltic Sea. The traders were overpowered and the assailants boarded the ship, seizing the cargo and passengers, alike. According to the sagas, Olaf Tryggvason and his mother were captured and separated. Astrid was hauled away to some unknown grisly fate, while young Olaf was shipped over to Estonia, where he was sold into slavery. The pirates apparently bartered him in exchange for a goat and then he was supposedly traded once more for a good cloak. According to the tale, Olaf Tryggvason remained a slave in Estonia for about six years, mainly working as an enslaved farmhand. Thankfully, Olaf was apparently discovered and freed by his uncle, Sigurd Eiriksson, who fulfilled Astrid’s wishes by bringing Olaf to the domain of Vladimir the Great.

Whether or not this is truly how Olaf Tryggvason spent his childhood, the real historical figure certainly lived his early years in exile from Norway and eventually became quite the adventurer. Anglo-Saxon accounts of Olaf’s Viking raids in Britain are some of the first definitive accounts of his burgeoning military career. He somehow became a companion of King Sweyn Forkbeard of Denmark and accompanied the Danish king on great Viking expeditions against England in 991 and 994. Finally, in 995, Olaf Tryggvason returned to Norway and usurped power from Jarl Hákon Sigurdsson (who had by then defeated the sons of Eirik with the help of the Danes).  King Olaf Tryggvason ruled Norway from 995 until his death in 1000. As for Olaf's mother, Astrid, the sagas claim she was eventually found in an Estonian slave market by a certain Lothin of Vik, who bought her freedom and brought Astrid back to Norway, eventually making her his bride.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A depiction of a scene from the saga of Olaf, by Halfdan Egedius (1877–1899), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Olaf-Tryggvason 
• http://avaldsnes.info/en/informasjon/olav-tryggvason/ 
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/britannia/anglo-saxon/maldon/olaftryggvason.html 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harald-II-Eiriksson 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harald-I-king-of-Norway 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Haakon-I-Adalsteinsfostre 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Haakon-Sigurdsson 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Vladimir-I  

The Chaotic Schemes Of Ragnhild Eiriksdotter In Orkney

According to Norwegian-Icelandic tradition, King Harald Finehair (r. 860-940), turned the lawless Viking hubs of Shetland and Orkney into governed domains of Norway by placing the island regions under the control of the family of Jarl Rognvald of More. Like most events in Harald Finehair’s life, the date of the Norwegian takeover of Orkney and Shetland is difficult to place on a timeline, with dates often having a margin of error spanning decades. As told by the Icelandic sagas, King Harald did not turn his gaze toward the British Isles until he crushed all Norwegian resistance against his rule in the Battle of Hafrsfjord, which has been dated anywhere from 872 to 900. By the time Harald Finehair was succeeded by his son, Eirik Bloodaxe, around 940, several jarls had come and gone in Orkney. The sagas claim that Jarl Sigurd was the first ruler of Orkney, and he was succeeded by two short-lived jarls. There was apparently a brief period when Danish Vikings edged their way back into the region, but Jarl Einar I (a son of Rognvald) reclaimed Orkney for Norway. Einar was said to have lived a long life, but he likely died well before Eirik Bloodaxe came to power.

Around 945, Eirik Bloodaxe was forced to flee Norway when his popular  and well-connected brother, Haakon the Good, made a successful bid for the Norwegian throne. Eirik Bloodaxe made the best of his exile and sailed to the British Isles, where he became king of Northumbria around 947 or 948. While there, he allied himself with Orkney, which was reportedly ruled at that time by three sons of the late Jarl Einar. Two of the three sons, Arnkl and Erlend, supposedly became Eirik’s frequent companions, and they were said to have died alongside Eirik Bloodaxe after having been ambushed at Stainmore in 954.

After the death of Eirik Bloodaxe, his wife, Gunnhild, uprooted her family from Northumbria and sailed to the friendlier shores of Orkney. The last son of Einar, Jarl Thorfinn Skullcleaver, allowed Gunnhild’s family to take control of Orkney and Shetland for a while, but the late King Eirik’s ambitious scions eventually relocated back to Scandinavia and harassed Haakon the Good from a base in Denmark. Yet, before Gunnhild and her sons departed from Orkney, they rewarded Jarl Thorfinn for his hospitality by arranging for his son, Arnfinn, to marry Eirik Bloodaxe’s daughter, Ragnhild. According to the Orkneyinga Saga, this marriage would cause a wave of bloodshed to crash over the ruling family of Orkney.

Thorfinn Skullcleaver was said to have five sons, and while infighting over who would inherit the jarldom may have developed naturally between the sons, the Orkneyinga Saga placed the blame on the scheming of Ragnhild Eiriksdotter. According to the saga, Ragnhild murdered her husband, Arnfinn (presumably Thorfinn’s heir), and instead married Thorfinn’s next eldest son, Havard. After Thorfinn Skullcleaver died, Havard became the new jarl, but his brothers and cousins did not respect his claim to the title. As the saga presents the story, Ragnhild then used her wit and good looks to weave the nobles of Orkney around her will. She supposedly convinced one of the new jarl’s nephews, curiously known as Einar Buttered-Bread, to ambush and kill Jarl Havard. Another of the late jarl’s nephews, known as Einar Hard-Mouth, allegedly also fell to Ragnhild’s charm and killed Buttered-Bread on her command. Meanwhile, Ragnhild Eiriksdotter reportedly married a third son of Thorfinn Skullcleaver, this time called Ljot, and she helped her new husband become the next jarl.

As had happened with the last husband of Ragnhild, other nobles of Orkney did not respect the authority of the jarl. Ljot’s nephew, Einar Hard-Mouth, launched a lack-luster coup attempt and was executed after the conspiracy ended in failure. Ljot’s younger brother, Skuli, however, posed a much more dangerous threat. Skuli sailed to Scotland, where he cultivated some support among the Scots. With a large band of warriors, Skuli returned to Orkney and challenged his brother. Jarl Ljot, however, won the battle and chased his brother all the way back to Scotland. According to the Orkneyinga Saga, Ljot and Skuli continued to battle it out in the then Norwegian-controlled region of Caithness, where Skuli was killed and Ljot was mortally wounded.

After fighting Skuli and the Scots in Caithness, Ljot was said to have returned to Orkney and died of his wounds soon after. His brother, Hlodvir—the last remaining son of Thorfinn Skullcleaver –became the next jarl. Unlike his brothers, Arnfinn, Havard and Ljot, Jarl Hlodvir made the wise decision to distance himself from Ragnhild Eiriksdotter. He instead married Eithne, a daughter of an Irish king, and lived long enough to die peacefully in his bed. After the ascendance of Hlodvir, no further record of Ragnhild was kept, leading many to believe she lost all influence in Orkney or died.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Image of Gunnhild being told of Eirik Bloodaxe's death, by Christian Krohg  (1852–1925), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018. 
• Orkneyinga Saga, written anonymously approximately c. 1200, translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. New York: Penguin Classics, 1981. 
• The Saga of the People of Laxardal and Bolli Bollason’s Tale, written in 13th-century Iceland, translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008. 
• http://fmg.ac/Projects/MedLands/SCOTTISH%20NOBILITY.htm#_Toc359671992 
• http://enacademic.com/dic.nsf/enwiki/9480077 
• http://www.englishmonarchs.co.uk/vikings_8.html  

King Harald II Allegedly Started A Fashion Trend And Consequently Received A Stylish Name

King Harald II of Norway (r. 961-970) was one of several sons fathered by King Eirik Bloodaxe, ruler of Norway in the early 940s. Nevertheless, the usurpation of the throne in 945 by Haakon the Good, Eirik’s younger brother, caused Eirik Bloodaxe and his family to flee over to the British Isles. There, Eirik managed to set himself up as King of Northumbria in 947 and remained influential in the region until his death during a raid around 954.

After Eirik Bloodaxe’s death, his wife and sons left mainland Britain and temporarily stayed in the Orkney and Shetland Islands, but ultimately relocated to Denmark, where they were given shelter by King Harald Bluetooth of the Danes (r. 958-985). From Denmark, the sons of Eirik Bloodaxe raided Norway, where Haakon the Good was still in power. The Saga of Haakon the Good, written by the Icelandic chief Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), alleged that the sons of Eirik launched four major invasions into Norway. According to the saga, each invasion failed, yet Haakon the Good was mortally wounded while pressing back the final attack in 961. As King Haakon the Good had no male heirs, he reportedly named his troublesome nephews (the sons of Eirik Bloodaxe) as his successors.

At the time of Haakon’s death, Harald II was the eldest living son of Eirik Bloodaxe, and he therefore became the next king of Norway, although he did allow his surviving brothers to share in his power. When he first took the throne, the new king was apparently known simply as Harald Eiriksson. Yet, before the end of his reign, he would gain a stylish addition to his name.

According to Snorri Sturluson, Norway saw an influx of Icelandic trade during the time of Harald II. In particular, an unnamed Icelandic merchant reportedly sailed into the Hardanger region of Norway with a large cargo of sheepskin cloaks. Unfortunately, the Icelandic trader soon discovered that his cloaks were not considered fashionable in Norway. Wealthy Norwegians stayed away from the man’s Icelandic garments as if they were the plague. Yet, the merchant’s luck abruptly changed for the better when King Harald II decided to peruse the newly arrived wares. To the merchant’s delight, the king bought a lordly gray sheepskin cloak, which he draped across his shoulders, and it became an iconic part of his wardrobe.

King Harald II must have looked great in the cloak, for all of his thanes apparently scrambled to find their own sheepskin cloaks. The Icelandic merchant, who earlier had been avoided at all costs, now found himself to be the most sought-after fashion designer in the region. Before long, the merchant’s entire cargo of sheepskin cloaks was sold off to thanes and noblemen who were eager to keep up with the latest royal fashion. According to Snorri Sturluson, it was after this encounter that the king of Norway became known as Harald Graycloak.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Frithjof, the Viking of Norway, and Roland, the paladin of France, (c. 1899), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Flickr).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Erik-I 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Harald-II-Eiriksson  

The Peculiar Tale Of Saur, The Magical Talking Dog Of Medieval Norway

In his Heimskringla, the Icelandic chief, Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), ambitiously sought to write an entertaining, but historically inspired, narrative that traced the royal line of Norway from the ancient fog of myth all the way to the reign of Magnus Erlingsson (r. 1162-1184). Sturluson achieved his goal, ultimately producing a book that not only contained vital information about medieval Scandinavia (especially through his preservation of Skaldic poetry), but was also skillfully written in a pleasant and enjoyable way. Nevertheless, the Heimskringla was a series of sagas, and while sagas feature historical subjects and people, they also often take great artistic license for the sake of storytelling, or otherwise use myth and folklore to spice up the tale. The Heimskringla, though an admirable work of great importance, was no exception. Take, for example, the odd story of Saur, the magical talking dog of Norway.

The bizarre tale of Saur appears as an interesting digression in the Saga of Hákon the Good, the fourth saga contained in the Heimskringla. It is quite a big digression, for although the saga is about Hákon the Good (king of Norway, r. 934/940-961), the tale of Saur was set more than a century earlier, in the time before Norway was unified under a single monarchy. The haphazard placement of Saur’s story in the saga conjures up an image of Snorri Sturluson having this fun folklorish tale in his possession, but not knowing where it would best fit in the narrative. Therefore, when he happened to write about Hákon the Good interacting with Trondheim, the setting of Saur’s story, Snorri Sturluson decided to include the tale of the dog in the saga, even if it was a bit chronologically awkward, just because it was that entertaining.

As the story goes, there lived a certain minor king called Eystein the Powerful in Uppland who, according to tradition, lived around the early 9th century. Eystein the Powerful allegedly invaded the region of Trondheim and brought the district under his influence. With the area conquered, the king needed to appoint someone to govern the newly acquired land. He apparently offered the names of two possible candidates for the job, and let the people of Trondheim decide which of the two would be their new overlord. One option was Thórir Faxi, a trusted thrall of Eystein. The other choice was Saur—a dog.

Trondheim, of course, chose the dog as their new governor, thinking that they could remain autonomous if a mere animal was their appointed ruler. Yet, when Saur padded his way into Trondheim, the locals soon realized that this was no ordinary dog. According to the tale, Saur was a magical creature with three times the intelligence of an average man. He could also allegedly speak in human tongues after having barked twice; although, how understandable this speech was is unknown, for Snorri did not say if the dog spoke full sentences or just one word between barks.

Saur must have either impressed or frightened the people of Trondheim, because the locals began to heap luxurious gifts upon their magical hound. A collar and chain of gold and silver were crafted for the furry lord. He was also supposedly given a dog bed fit for a king, which was placed on a hill where the rulers of Trondheim once held their court. Additionally, the people of Trondheim reportedly carried Saur on their shoulders when he wished to travel, ensuring that his noble paws were never dirtied by mud. All in all, he lived a pampered life.

Saur, however, was a dog of his times—no Norse ruler, including the magical mutt of Trondheim, wanted to be thought of as soft or weak. Therefore, when a threat occurred in his domain, Saur would bare his teeth and boldly scamper toward the danger. As the story goes, this noble nature eventually led to Saur’s death. One day, a pack of wolves attacked a flock of sheep in Trondheim. Upon hearing of this attack, Saur heroically rushed to the flock’s defense. Unfortunately, the brave hound did not wait for reinforcements, but instead chose to carry on alone. Although he was a magical dog, Saur was no match for the pack of wolves, and his bizarre tale ends with him sadly being ripped apart by his canine cousins.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Medieval illumination of a dog, 14th century, from a Codex in the Czech Republic, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Heimskringla 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Snorri-Sturluson